


Ancient Grudge to New Mutiny

by aislingyngaio



Category: Heroes of the Storm (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4066534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingyngaio/pseuds/aislingyngaio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyrande, Malfurion and Illidan simply cannot let bygones be bygones for long, not even when their lives depended on it. Written for Open Beta Rotation week 26 May to 1 Jun 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ancient Grudge to New Mutiny

As soon as she heard a long suffering groan next to her, Valla knew it was going to be one of _those_ matches.

“Ugh, what _is_ the deal with them anyway?” the demon hunter asked impatiently of the king of the dead, as their three other companions rode out from the Nexus silently amidst tension so thick it could be sliced in two.

Arthas only slid her a sidelong glare, embarrassed at the earlier slip in his composure. “It's not any of our concern, especially if we do not share lanes with either of them,” he pronounced regally in his echoing voice, before staking out the only empty lane, quite determined to put as much space between the upcoming and inevitable drama as possible.

Valla considered, then shrugged and decided to leave the frigid corpse to himself. It wasn't as if she liked him any better than the rest of their party, all of whom were from his world, and besides, demon hunters should stick together anyway.

(She really did want to know the story between the druid, the priestess and the demon hunter though. Information of any kind was always power, even if she didn't know exactly what sort of power this would prove to be.)

It wasn't half bad in the beginning. They mostly stuck to their lanes, so she and Illidan worked well together, melee and ranged, glaive and crossbow. Illidan, without the distraction of _that_ pair, was ruthless and efficient, and his movements, which were quite different than those from her world, mesmerized her. Unfortunately, he was also stubbornly silent, never even deigning to notice her, let alone returning her attempts at small talk in between waves except for one very loud “GET HIM” when Stitches, who'd been close to death, had almost escaped.

Then the darkness fell, and together they ventured into the gardens in search of mythical seeds for their garden terror, and met up with Malfurion and Tyrande. As Valla continued with her shooting, she nevertheless noticed that, while the triumvirate resolutely pressed their own attacks on the giant garden terror lashing out at them, the priestess had curled her lip in a scoff, which grew more and more pronounced as Illidan became more and more reckless and showy in his movements, while Malfurion refused point blank to even look at the demon hunter (and yet always knew, almost as if instinctively, whether the glaive user needed augmentation to his own heals).

“Where is the Lich King, young one?” Tyrande asked in an aside to Valla, both women leaping nimbly around the garden to avoid the entangling roots of their opponent. The death gong sounded right before she could reply, which fortunately coincided with the collapse of the large plant monster, showering its flower seeds all over them.

Valla tried again to reply as the seeds were being collected, but was interrupted by Illidan going up to Tyrande casually (almost too casually, Valla thought, amusement mixed with annoyance) and declaring, “Well, he's either very late, or he's dead.” A short bark of laughter. “ _Dead_ dead. The death of the dead king of the dead.”

The other demon hunter was mildly impressed at the hidden depths of Illidan's conversational skills – that was _two_ whole sentences. Malfurion, who had always been calm and collected even when his life had been in danger, actually went so far as to roll his eyes at the heavens. Tyrande prayed for patience from Elune.

Illidan, pretending to be more sightless than he was, only smirked again, savouring the aggravation of his brother and their beloved as they rode away together.

* * *

Using her hearthstone to teleport back to the Nexus, Valla unfortunately dropped right in the middle of a... _situation_.

“-- don't have to look so _delighted_ to kill me, Tyrande. How many times do I--”

“It wasn't me, Illidan. How many times must _I_ repeat this before you--”

“Well, it wasn't as if you didn't feel just a _little_ satisfied that you – I'm sorry, your mysterious _twin_ – managed to land the killing blow on me! Right _before_ you had the time to heal me, no doubt!”

The woman raised her eyes as one hand absentmindedly caress her crossbows, drawn to the simmering situation between the duo already riding away from the Nexus before she was halfway healed. She actually debated on whether she should trail behind them (they might need help in case of an ambush, after all!), but duty and her wounds finally prevailed.

The revival of Arthas surprised her momentarily, and even more surprisingly he started to mutter very fast under his breath as he urged his mount into a fast gallop. Valla couldn't really catch one word out of five, but unless she was mistaken, the Lich King was furiously promising to beat _someone_ to a pulp again because _someone_ didn't assist him in taking down Zagara even though that _someone_ could have.

Judging by the “hang him by his blindfold on the roof of the Citadel” comment, she didn't think anyone could mistake just who had earned the ire of the frosty king.

* * *

It was the reminder of what his ultimate spell was that finally had Valla narrow her eyes at her comrade.

“You are a demon hunter and yet also a demon?” she demanded, aghast at what was a complete antithesis to her demon hunting beliefs. Fighting demons could never mean stooping so low as to become one of them in order to destroy them, for more than likely one would eventually become every bit the demons they had fought against.

Glaives flashing wildly as the swirl of demonic energy coated his entire body, Illidan was utterly unrepentant. “I did what I had to do,” he yelled back as she tried to focus on spraying arrows into their enemies and NOT into the newly revealed demon. “ _He_ would have had that power hidden away when it was most needed to destroy the evil in my world.”

Following the direction of his glaive to Arthas, who did not even acknowledge the other male's words except for the slight sinister smile of grim satisfaction at being of some disservice to Illidan, she scowled, but Malfurion's healing spells preceded his stern voice, declaring, “You chose power, brother. You have always chosen power, whether or not it was necessary. You have only seen power as a means to an end. All to mask your addiction to it.”

Despite the ongoing battle, Illidan couldn't quite hold back his sneer this time. “And have I not used that power to save us, save Tyrande, more than once?”

“Before or after you made things worse?” was the cold reply from the priestess, as she called down the stars from her beloved moon goddess. “Raw power is no substitute for true strength, Illidan.”

His knuckles gleaming white as he gripped his glaives too tightly, he scathingly retorted, “Ah yes, the reason you chose brother dear over---”

An enormous maw swallowed the happy trio before Illidan could complete his sentence, but Valla had more than guessed the missing piece to the puzzle. Unfortunately for herself and the Lich King, they were now alone in facing five opponents. Five only very slightly injured opponents whom were out for blood, and by the satisfaction on their faces, were about to get it.

Even knowing it to be an exercise in futility, Valla started spitting her arrows in all directions as the enemies converged. Two death gongs sounded out in quick succession, and she barely had time enough to accuse Arthas that “you knew this was going to happen, didn't you?” when three others joined them in the Nexus limbo, with the mated pair glaringly balefully at the third wheel, and the outcast not backing down one inch.

Valla couldn't help asking, "Are you three always going to be like this?"

Behind her, Arthas only just managed to catch his snort of disgust as they swirled, waiting to be revived.

* * *

Arthas didn't like losing, never had. Yet the rules of the Nexus were far too strictly enforced for him to subvert or outright break, else he might try for allies he wouldn't mind having by his side. As it was, he could only wish (even though he'd long been used to simply taking what he wanted instead of relying on mere wishes) that the Nexus would stop forcing team-ups with allies who simply couldn't let it go. Thoughts darkening at the news of the latest announced entrant to the Nexus, he murmured wrathfully under his breath while his eyes narrowed at the troublesome trio, uncaring that Valla was still lurking behind him awaiting the return to her own world, “Don't you _dare_ have that stuffy elf allied to Jaina and I, or so help me---”

The lightning of the Nexus flashed, and Valla snorted into the silence. Knowing the Nexus, the Lich King was probably going to have his own reckoning soon enough.

_\- Finis -_


End file.
